


Insidious subconscious

by jajafilm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Doe, Dreams, Half-Blood Prince, Hospitals, M/M, Severus Snape Lives, Sex, Stag - Freeform, Subconscious, potions textbook, symbolic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jajafilm/pseuds/jajafilm
Summary: Dreams and the subconscious is such an eternal theme.Harry again dreams of the Half-Blood Prince, though he thought it wouldn't happen after Dumbledore's death and revealed the identity of the former Potions textbook owner.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

#  Insidious subconscious

_Harry sat on his bed reading the Potions textbook. His eyes were slowly closing. It was almost midnight when he heard footsteps through Ron's snoring. But he didn't look away from the book and continued to read the Prince's enhancement of Amortentia under the spell of Lumos. He believed it must be Neville, who usually woke up in the middle of the night with the need to go to the toilet. However, Harry made a mistake. The person wasn't his classmate, but Harry saw it until when the stranger came to him. On textbook shadow fell, and all the hairs on the back of his neck constricted as he smelled the familiar scent of herbs and old parchment. He knew very well who came to him and what he was asking for. This dream didn't seem to him for the first time, but this time it was different. The Prince's appearance was surprisingly concrete._

_He was a slender and tall man. A large hooked nose dominated the look, followed by a mouth twisted into a sarcastic grin. Slightly yellowish skin contrasted with black greasy hair. The expressive wrinkles had not yet been written into his face, but the onyx eyes were already dark and cold, like two bottomless abysses. Young Severus Snape stood before him._

_Boy-who-lived's heart start beat madly and he immediately pointed his wand at the man in front of him._

_“Mr. Potter, stop aiming at me!” the Prince ordered, sounding like his typical older self._

_Harry didn't listen to him. “Or what?! Take points from Gryffindor, take me to Voldemort, kill me ?!”_

_Snape glared at him, then snorted. “You know well, I don't intend any of those things,” he said, knelt on the bed, leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear: “I always want one and the same thing in this dream.”_

_Harry could feel the heat on his face. His whole body tensed, and against his conviction he desperately perceived the closeness of the other man. One of the pale Prince's hands ran through his restless raven hair, while the other disappeared under the covers. “Get away from me!” he screamed almost hysterically._

_“Just scream, your classmates are just such a backdrop here._ _Last time we had sex here on that bed, and it didn't seem to we wake anyone up,” Slytherin prompted, obviously he wasn't going to be discouraged._

_“Why does this seem to me again? It was supposed to stop,” Harry groaned, trying to pull away from Snape. “It was supposed to stop when I found out who you were. “When you showed your true loyalty, when you kill -” He couldn't finish the sentence, he had to pause. Severus' hand under the blanket found its target. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. It took a moment before he could speak again. “I hate you, so why?”_

_“I'm a Potions Master, not a psychologist, to analyze your tendency to masochism,” Snape said by his sexy baritone. “But I have something to tell you.” Their eyes met. Bright green drunk into black. “You should follow subconscious and instinct,” the Prince advised him before he kissed him._

-.-.-

Harry woke up. He was all sweaty, excited, and bitterly regretted that the tent, which Hermione had packed for them, had no shower. His friend probably kept a patrol outside. What would she do if she learned that while she was honestly guarding their safety, he was dreaming of the murderer who was currently managing Hogwarts as director? She might be shocked at first, but then then for his sudden infatuation blamed medallion and the subconscious. She would say, that Harry are fighting with his past attraction to the Half-Blood Prince, the misery over Ron's departure, and with the newly discovered negative information about Dumbledore.

_“You feel deceived and that leads you to think through everything, even about the motives and betrayal of a person, who you feel it all started with,”_ he imagined her explanation. It sounded as if he doubted Snape is a nasty Death Eater. Nonsense! He had seen the murder with his own eyes. Yet he couldn't get Prince's words out of his head: _“You should follow subconscious and instinct.”_ Which was damn close to the ala statement? “Forget what you know, and just believe me.”

He suddenly thought that it might not have been just a dream. His former professor had a very good command of the magic of the mind, both occlumency and legilimency. Like Voldemort, could he have sent him visions? However, this interpretation had its shortcomings. Legilimency could only be used remotely in the case of internal relationship, and with Snape, unlike Raddle, Harry had no connection. Also, it was extremely unlikely that a man who normally walked in long black robes, with only a small amount of human skin sticking out, would send erotic dreams to his most hated student, even if he longed to regain confidence from the Chosen One.

Harry finally shook his head and tried to just throw that weird dream away. He decided to change clothes and then replace his friend on a night watch.


	2. Stag and doe

#  **Stag and doe**

_She was hurt and lonely. The evil wolves drove her away from her herd. The snake, which she has been tried to eat, bitten her, and now she was desperately looking for a water source. If only she find a waterhole that would help her ward off the venom circulating in her veins. But she wandered through the unknown parts of the forest. She didn't know where to look. The sun had long since_ _swung across the horizon. She decided to give up and lay her head in the blueberry shrub when she suddenly saw movement between the thicket of young spruce trees. She pricked up her ears and waited with tension. Not long after that HE came._

_He had a stunning white fur._ _Under his hooves trembled grass. The golden antler rising from its slender elegant head glittered beautifully in the bluish moonlight._ _She couldn't believe her eyes. She watched him in breathless suspense. Is he God, Death, Lord of the Forest? She didn't know, but it didn't matter. He was here and just seeing him, meeting him was indescribable._

_But he wanted to give her not only that. He came up to her, paused, and tossed his head to the right. In a clear gesture, **“get up and follow me!”** It was an order or recommendation that she couldn't disobey. The deer headed north and the doe followed him._

_Together they went through a thicket of spruce trees, a rocky hill and a blue meadow before they stood on the rocky shore of a small lake deep in the forest._ _Finally she was redeemed. She dipped her throat in the cold water. She was saved. But how should she thank her savior? Could someone like him be interested in her? She looked up at him and uncertainly raked off a few pebbles. He blew and then lowered his crown, then straightened and walked up to her. He brushed friendly on her side. She was accepted._

_-*-*-*-*-*-_

Megan put on her medical cap and walked out of the dressing room. She just started her morning shift at Royal Stoke Hospital. Her first charge on the list was a man from room 6. Famous middle-aged patient, who was found unconscious near Lathkill Dale. He was bitten and poisoned by a wild animal. He lost a lot of blood and had to go through a complicated operation. But now he was conscious and relatively fine. He escaped with a nasty scar on his neck and without his memory.

“Good morning, how you slept?” she greeted him as she entered the room.

The man grinned at her. He was sitting on his bed, black, greasy hair falling in his face, and a pencil with a block of papers was in his hand. “How could I sleep? You left the window open and didn't pull the curtains,” he replied bitingly.

But Megan did nothing from his remark. “Mr. unknown” was just such the nature of a growler who always finds negative thing on everyone and everything. She was convinced that if she left the window closed, he would complain that there it was hot. So with an unshakable professional smile, she crossed the room and began to remove the plastic bag from the trash can. “So you didn't sleep and you drew instead?” she noted when she saw the man's sketches on the bedside table right next to it.

"Yes," the patient simply replied, still stooping over a block of papers to sketch something. His large hooked nose was almost buried in his creation.

“Do you think you are drawing something from your past?” she asked with interest, picking up one of his works. The picture shows a stag with a doe on the edge of the lake. The doe was just drinking and the stag was holding something like an earthworm in his mouth, or was it a snake? The nurse thought for a moment that their mysterious patient was a believer before. Though the idea of the sarcastic and annoying man as a priest was quite absurd. Maybe he was a painter? According to that little picture, he definitely had talent.

She shrugged anyway and walked over to the other bed, to made it.


End file.
